


The Devil in the Detail

by Schadenfreudah



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Bottom Ryou, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreudah/pseuds/Schadenfreudah
Summary: Life with two Bakuras all things considered was not all that different from the way it had been with only one.Except, recently, things had begun to change.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Thief King Bakura, Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura, Yami Bakura/Bakura Ryou/Thief King Bakura
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102





	The Devil in the Detail

Life with two Bakuras, all things considered, was not all that different from the way it had been with only one.

At first, there had been a steep learning curve. The Thief King's assimilation into the modern era hadn't been easy. The process of teaching a tomb robber from a different country three thousand years ago how to wear jeans and use a toaster had been perhaps even more challenging than anticipated. It didn't help that the Thief King and the former spirit of the Millennium Ring butted heads constantly, in a power struggle that often resulted in broken furniture and late night diplomacy on Ryou's part. But out of necessity and sheer power of will, Ryou had adapted to the changes and adjusted his way of life accordingly. It had taken a lot of effort, but both Bakuras had managed to settle into his small apartment and live together in a state of relative peace.

Except recently, things had begun to change.

While Bakura had been controlling even from within the confines of the Ring, in recent weeks he trailed Ryou like a shadow through their apartment, constantly examining what seemed like every contour of Ryou's body. The Thief King, too, stayed close; he would watch Ryou work for hours, cross-legged on the bed as Ryou studied for some subject or another, gazing at him so deeply Ryou felt as if he was being dissected.

It was, to put it mildly, distracting. Having one of them stalk him through the house was enough, but with both of them hot on his trail they occupied his field of vision, and his thoughts, near constantly. To make matters worse, they'd begun to seep into his dreams—images of them watching him as he did other things, or helping him themselves, or helping themselves to him never ended. It wasn't as if Ryou had never had such thoughts before; he was a teenager, after all. But having both the Thief King and Bakura hovering over him had kept him on constant edge, more wound up than he'd ever been in his normal life.

Today had been even worse than usual. In the morning, the Thief King had snuck up behind Ryou while he was cooking breakfast and wrapped his arms around his waist, and, ever so gracefully, Ryou had dropped a pan straight onto his foot in surprise. After a long day at school with an aching toe and a difficult exam he was sure he'd done poorly on, by the time he got home he had been more than ready to destress with a nice bath. But even that hadn't gone according to plan, of course; Ryou had accidentally walked in on Bakura changing his shirt, which had been a little exciting and mostly just humiliating.

But now, as he slipped into the warm bath he'd prepared after shooing Bakura away, Ryou was little bit less embarrassed. A relaxing soak in the tub always seemed to make him feel better, especially after a stressful day.

Soothed by the flow of the water over his sore skin, Ryou laid his head back, breathed in the steamy air, and let the tension seep from his body.

* * *

Ryou hurried out of the bathroom to cross the threshold to his bedroom, a thin towel wrapped around his waist and hair pulled up in a loose hold. When he twisted the knob open and took a step inside, he was met with two identical stares. They weren't identical in appearance—the Thief King's eyes were a striking light purple and Bakura's a muddy, reddish brown—but rather in sentiment. Their depths conveyed the same coy emotion: one that Ryou didn't want to even attempt to identify.

Feeling rather awkward, Ryou shivered and reached up to pull his hair from its tie, letting it fall to his shoulders. As he had hoped, it covered the curve of his collarbone that the towel couldn't. "Sorry I took so long," he started, cautious, his gaze darting between them. "My shoulders were aching, and the hot water felt really nice."

"No need to apologize," said the Thief King, grinning. "We were happy to wait."

Ryou couldn't bring himself to smile, nervous as he was. The Thief King's use of 'we' was not encouraging. Really, there was something rather dangerous to the notion of a 'we.' Bakura and the Thief King were almost never unified in purpose, and as it seemed to Ryou often disagreed deliberately just to avoid appearing too alike. Anything that could move them to put aside their feud, even if only for a moment, didn't bode well for anyone.

Bakura rolled his eyes. "I may not be able to read your mind any longer, but I can still tell what you're thinking. There's no need to be so nervous, landlord, really." Taking a step towards Ryou, he extended a hand. The grin on his face was nearly identical to the Thief King's. "Come on, you can come a little closer. We won't bite."

They were on either side of him, now, Bakura to his left and the Thief King to his right, boxing him in. Swallowing, Ryou looked between them once more. He knew he had to choose one of the two to approach to reach the bed where his pajamas were laid out, if only to avoid getting too close to the other.

But which one?

Without really thinking, Ryou fought hard against the blush that rose high in his cheeks and hurried over to the right. In his haste, he stumbled over a patch of carpet; his foot caught on the hook of the bedframe, which nearly sent him flying. The Thief King reached out to steady him, hands coming to rest on his waist and anchor Ryou where he stood. 

"Careful," he said, and flashed his sharp, white teeth in a smile. "We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, would we?"

Ryou shot him a grateful look and wriggled out of his grip, turning toward the bed to hastily grab his underwear and bottoms so he could slip them on from under his towel. He could feel the dual heat of their gazes on his bare back, and he shivered as he shimmied into his boxers and pajama pants. When that was done, Ryou allowed the towel fall to the ground and pulled on his t-shirt, quickly covering the bare skin he'd exposed. Neither the Thief King nor Bakura had ever expressed violent intentions towards him before—on the contrary, really—but the predatory look they were angling his way made nerves simmer in his stomach as if he were one of their targets, and Ryou had always felt that It was better to be safe than sorry.

When neither of them moved to intervene, Ryou's worried frown lightened somewhat. It was unfair to suspect them when they hadn't done anything wrong; so much of the past few months had been about building up trust, and if they were going to trust Ryou, let alone each other, then he had to have faith in them first.

Swallowing, he turned back around. "So what did you," he began, but the words got caught in his mouth when the Thief King snared his thick arms around his waist, encircling its curve and tugging Ryou towards him. "Hey—?"

When the Thief King provided no explanation other than a deep, immensely self-satisfied chuckle, Ryou's eyes sought out Bakura, but the former spirit of the Ring was no better. Rather than intervening, he stepped forward as well, and let his hands settle just above the Thief King's on Ryou's hips.

"Pretty little landlord,” teased Bakura, thumbs slipping beneath the hem of Ryou's shirt to rub circles into the bare skin beneath the thin cotton. “Don't worry, it's nothing bad. He and I were just having a conversation while you were in the bathroom. Nothing too serious, of course—only a little wager." He paused, and drew his gaze over Ryou's face; it lingered a beat too long on his lips. "We had a question for you, that was all. You can answer us one little question, can't you?"

Ryou only stared, paralyzed by Bakura's dark eyes. " _Yes_ ," he managed to choke out, when he realized that Bakura was waiting for a response.

"Good boy," Bakura breathed, voice soft, and his fingers crept up the sensitive skin of Ryou's belly. Each touch was bottled lightning in his throat. "Now, behave, and this will only take a second." He paused again, and then asked, without a trace of humour, "Which one of us do you prefer?"

Ryou blinked, taken aback. The strange question was enough to break the spell that Bakura's light caresses had cast; confusion flooded his mind in its stead. "What?" 

"Which one of us do you prefer?" Bakura repeated, tone laced with slight irritation, as if he had said something completely ordinary and _Ryou_ was the weird one between them. "Go on, landlord, it's okay. We won't be offended."

The Thief King's breath was hot against the nape of his neck when he let out a low chuckle. "He says that now," he murmured, so quiet only Ryou could hear.

Face pinched in uncertainty, Ryou eyed Bakura with some degree of confusion. It was an inane question, akin to asking Ryou whether he preferred having his fingers or his toes. Both were an equally essential component of the body. Likewise, the prospect of being without one of the two of them felt wrong. They were both equally necessary to the maintaining balance of their strange bond, whether they liked it or not. And Ryou wouldn't give up either for the world.

"I don't know," Ryou said, after a long, tense moment. "I—I don't have a preference. You're both so important to me, and," he paused, and bit his lip. His brows furrowed on his forehead. "And besides, aren't I allowed to care about both of you?"

The Thief King’s arms tightened their constricting grip, and he let out a short bark of a laugh. "This was stupid to begin with,” he said, annoyed, though the slow strokes of his hands over Ryou's body were fond. "He was always going to have both of us."

Bakura scowled at him over Ryou's shoulder. "We both knew it would in all likelihood come to this," he hissed, eyes narrowed, "so don't pretend you're all the wiser for it. Of course landlord wouldn't have been able to choose."

The Thief King nearly bared his teeth at the former spirit, one possessive hand dipping down to squeeze Ryou's ass. "I know," he spat back at his modern-day counterpart. "So then what was the point of any of this, _spirit_. Another stupid mind game?"

Breath hitching, Ryou's spine arched against the Thief King, inadvertently shoving his rear closer to the addictive warmth of his strong body. "Wait," he began, the word cut off by the choked gasp that escaped him when the Thief King pressed a wet kiss into the dip of his neck. His lips were dry and warm; the brush of his tongue against Ryou's skin flared a dull heat in his stomach. “That's—not exactly what I meant."

Bakura turned his attention back to Ryou, and his dextrous, wandering hands trailed up under his shirt. He let them linger on Ryou's stomach for a second, dragging over its flat swell, before two fingers snaked up and gave his nipple a savage tug. “Don’t try to _lie_ ,” he purred, lips twisting into a serpentine grin as his thumb rubbed over the nub. “I know you better than you know yourself, landlord. I've seen the way you look at us. I've _heard_ you in the bathroom late at night when you think no one is listening. Trying to hide your feelings from me is pointless, and you should know it. You've never been able to keep a secret."

Unable to deny what Bakura had said, Ryou let out a deep, shuddering sigh, which tore off into a moan when the hot drag of the Thief King's lips against his skin began to rise up the back of his neck. Everything was happening so fast, but it all felt so new and so good; he couldn't bring himself to deny the men what they were seeking from him, nor did he really care to.

"You seem distracted," the Thief King whispered into Ryou's ear, and bit its shell lightly. Ryou shivered, head tilting to the side to lean into his touch. "Care to share?"

Ryou sucked in a breath, but before he could muster up a proper response Bakura's hand had drifted from beneath his shirt to the front of his pants and began to massage Ryou's growing arousal. His touch was brief—far too brief to be satisfying, lingering only for a moment before his fingers moved to his clothed thighs.

" _Bakura_ ," Ryou whined, and tried to buck up against the former spirit's touch, but the Thief King was holding him too tightly to his chest; all Ryou could do was stand there and take it while Bakura played with his body as he saw fit.

After a few more minutes of relentless teasing from both sides, the Thief King's kisses grew more insistent, his large hands squeezing Ryou's waist harder than they'd been before. His hips, too, pressed up against Ryou's ass. "Ah," Ryou whined when the Thief King began to rock against him, his hardened cock brushing against Ryou's own between his thighs. "Thief King, _please_."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Bakura snapped, his frustration evident, and tugged at the bottom of Ryou's shirt to try to pull it off over his head. "We're sharing, remember?"

Their petty squabbling was reminiscent of two kids fighting over the same toy, and the thought was almost amusing until Ryou realized with some dismay that _he_ would, in this scenario, be the toy. And when kids couldn't share, said toy often ended up getting ripped clean in half. He shivered, and shot Bakura a plaintive glance.

The Thief King offered only a grunt in response, but although he didn't halt in his thrusting, he allowed his hands to drop from Ryou's middle for long enough that Bakura was able to successfully rip the fabric off Ryou's trembling body. The former spirit threw it over his head somewhere, and leaned back down to resume his fiddling with Ryou's chest, gazing at his pebbled nipples with hardly restrained fervor. Somewhere deep down, Ryou was pleased by their successful teamwork; mostly he was delirious, drunk off the two pairs of hands mapping out his body.

"Stay still," muttered the Thief King, and his grip drifted to the front of Ryou's pants to push them down to his ankles. When Ryou stepped out of them, he shivered; Bakura was looking at him, standing there in only his boxers, like he wanted to eat him alive.

But the moment of tension dissipated when the Thief King grasped him firmly once more and brought him back into his arms, cursing against Ryou's skin as he fiddled with his pants. Now that he could properly see, Ryou looked down to watch with heavy lidded eyes the Thief King unzipped his jeans and slipped his bare, swollen cock between Ryou's clothed thighs. It was thick, and hot; Ryou's tongue swept over his bottom lip, hungered by the feel of it against his skin.

Bakura, displeased by the Thief King's progress, leaned down and began to suck the junction between Ryou's neck and shoulder, so hard and so intently Ryou knew it would leave a heavy bruise. His fingers moved to Ryou's hair, twisting and pulling at the wayward strands as he bit more bruises into his tender skin.

"Please," Ryou whimpered, unsure which one's attention he wanted more. When both of them paused, he whined, desperate for them to keep touching him, and desperate for _more._ But although he knew what he wanted, the words stuck in his throat; self-awareness descended upon him, and filled his hollow, tight chest with shame.

"Please what?" the Thief King muttered, and rocked forward in quick, hard thrust between Ryou's thighs. "Go on. You can speak."

Ryou swallowed, arousal heavy in his gut, but he couldn't finish his sentence. His face grew hotter—had he really just been about to beg them to fuck him? Was he honestly that desperate already?

"I think our landlord is shy," Bakura snickered. "But don't worry. We'll soon fix that."Reaching forward, his fingers snagged on the waistline of Ryou's boxers, which then fell to the floor in a heap with his pants.

Ryou's whole body was flushed a deep shade of pink, his cock leaking on his stomach, but he didn't have it in him to try to cover up. Instead, he allowed Bakura and the Thief King's greedy eyes to drink in the sight of him, and shivering under their shared hungry, wanting gaze. Over his head, the two men made eye contact. Ryou didn't know what, but some kind of understanding passed between them, and then the Thief King was moving further away, grabbing a small bottle from the nightstand drawer that Ryou quickly recognized as his lotion. Bakura, on his other side, was tugging at his own zipper now, and his cock out of his boxers. Ryou licked his lips; they were both so hard, so eager to indulge in his body. He could identify the instincts of a thief clearly in both of them, that urge to simply take what they wanted, and perhaps for the first time Ryou almost thought that he could understand why they felt the way they did.

"Ryou," Bakura said, smooth and low. "Come over here."

Obediently, Ryou took a few steps towards the former spirit. His heart twisted hard in his chest.

Bakura stroked his hair, fingers running through the strands, and gently pushed Ryou to his knees. When he was on the ground, the former spirit leered at him, grin so sleazy it made Ryou's stomach clench. "Suck it," he ordered, and guided his hard cock to Ryou's mouth.

So lightheaded he felt like he was about to explode, Ryou parted his lips and allowed Bakura to slide his cock inside. It was thick and warm in his mouth, much warmer than he'd expected. When his tongue swept over the head in a tentative, kittenish lick, Ryou took in how _alive_ it felt: he loved the way the vein pulsed under his light ministrations, the slight tang of sweat he could taste as he drew the shaft further inside. Bakura's fingers threaded themselves in his hair as Ryou started to work his cock in earnest, trying to imitate what he'd seen in the pornos Jounouchi had insisted on showing him and Yuugi. As he suckled lightly on the head, Ryou's gaze shifted up to the former spirit's face, eyes wide and brows high on his forehead as he sought his approval.

Bakura let out a low groan when their eyes met, and pressed Ryou's head back down. "Take it all," he sighed, and pushed more of his cock into his mouth until Ryou's nose was buried in the thick, white hair at its base. "Shit," he hissed, and held Ryou's mouth there, even as he started to gag from the new sensation of pressure on his throat. "You're taking me so well, landlord. You're so _good_ at this—natural little cocksucker."

After a few more moments of letting him struggle for breath, Bakura thrust down into his mouth one final time and then pulled Ryou off by the hair. A smug grin spread across his face when Ryou spluttered, breathless and red in the face, trying to suck in as much air as he could. When he'd finally recovered his breath, Ryou looked up at Bakura with bleary, watering eyes. His throat was sore, and his jaw ached with the strain of sucking already, but Ryou needed to start sucking again—he wanted to keep going, to prove to the former spirit that he _was_ as good as he'd said he was, that he could do even better.

From his place on the bed, the Thief King, who had been silently watching for some time, entranced by the sight of them, stirred. Stalking over to where Ryou had knelt on the floor, the Thief King dropped to his knees and grasped Ryou roughly by the hips, pulling at his stomach until he was on all fours. There was a moment of silence during which he was doing something that Ryou couldn't see behind his back, and then suddenly a thick, wet finger was probing at Ryou's entrance, attempting to shove itself inside him.

Ryou let out a ragged gasp. He'd done this to himself a few times—more than a few—but the Thief King's fingers were so much thicker, and felt better than his own ever had. Spreading his legs for the ancient thief behind him, he rocked into the pressure, breath hitching every time the Thief King's finger curled against that sensitive spot deep inside of him. Within a few moments, another was joining the first, and they scissored Ryou's hole together, plunged inside to the buckle of their joints as they eased his hole open to accommodate something bigger.

Bakura, without a word of protest, slipped his cock back into Ryou's already open mouth. Unlike the first time, he didn't wait for Ryou to adjust: he immediately began fucking into his throat, both hands pushing on the back of Ryou's head to force him as far down as he could get. Ryou choked within seconds; it was far too much too fast, and his lack of experience wasn't helping. Despite the loud, pathetic gagging of Ryou's throat around his shaft, Bakura didn't stop. Instead, he only went faster, relishing in the noises his landlord's hot mouth was making around his cock.

The Thief King had added a third finger while Bakura used his mouth. Then, suddenly, he withdrew; Ryou's hole clenched, craving the thick digits back inside to fill him up. Bakura pulled away, letting his wet shaft rest on Ryou had a moment of recovery, head hanging low and face a mess of spit and tears, until the Thief King's cock pressed against his entrance, pushing inside until he was buried balls deep in his ass.

"Bakura," Ryou whimpered, body trembling with sudden feeling of fullness.

It was _painful_ —the Thief King was so big, so thick. It felt like his cock had spread Ryou apart from the inside, making his stomach and back ache. When Ryou's shaking calmed, somewhat, the Thief King began to slowly pump into him. His powerful hands were planted on Ryou's hips, fingers digging into his skin so hard they'd be sure to leave a smattering of bruises small, circular bruises all over his waist. While he fucked into Ryou at that steady, careful pace, the initial began to melt into an uncomfortable heat that burned in the pit of his stomach, thick and heady. The painful drag of him inside Ryou was _good;_ the blunt head of his cock jammed into that place within him every few thrusts, and between his legs Ryou's own cock twitched.

Ryou would've been content to be fucked like that forever. But he and the Thief King couldn't be the only one getting pleasure—this wasn't only for two of them. Ryou raised his head, and, looking straight up at Bakura with eyes wet with unshed tears, opened his mouth in a clear invitation.

Bakura grinned wickedly, and—grabbing Ryou's hair even rougher than before—slid his cock into his mouth. Setting a brutal pace, he fucked Ryou's throat so hard he gurgled around his shaft, which throbbed harder under Ryou's tongue with each strangled sound and gasp that escaped his mouth. From behind, the Thief King, not one to be outpaced, sped up his pace, and soon both were fucking into Ryou's body with abandon, two pairs of callused, thief's hands squeezing every bare inch of skin they could find. Filled completely from both sides, Ryou was lost in a mess of sensation. He was crying—he could feel the tears running down his cheeks as they spilled over his squinting lids—and drooling all over Bakura's cock, and his own dick was leaking onto the floor, jerking hard with every move as he was bounced between the two men using his body.

Everything felt like _so much,_ so hot and loud and intense that Ryou wasn't even sure he really knew what was going on. One of the Thief King's hand's slipped between Ryou's thighs and grabbed at his cock, grasping at it firmly in his warm grip as he ran his thumb over the tip, and then it was all over, coming to a head like a burst of lightning. Ryou's climax hit him so hard his vision went black and stars exploded behind his eyes as he sobbed against the rhythm of Bakura's fucking.

For a moment, he was boneless, floating in the space between reality and some scary, sunken place. And then, Ryou could feel himself again: could feel the weight of his tired limbs on the verge of collapse, the weak jolts of pleasure when the Thief King's cock slammed into his ass. He could tell that they were getting close, too; their thrusts were staggering, less in sync with one another and themselves, desperate and hard.

"Gods," he heard the Thief King grunt from behind him after a few jerky pumps, and then something warm flowed into Ryou's ass. It was so _much_ , clearly pent up; excess rolled down his thighs even as the Thief King remained buried inside, cock softening in Ryou's hole.

Ryou gazed up at Bakura, nose running and eyes bloodshot, face wet with tears and snot and drool, and wrapped his red, puffy lips around his cock for one last suck. That was enough for Bakura to shove Ryou's head down on him until his cock was shoved in to its base and and come straight down his throat, eyes squeezed shut tightly and hands grabbing onto Ryou's hair so hard his knuckles turned white. Eyes still fixed on the former spirit's face, Ryou swallowed obligingly, and gave Bakura's shaft one last tender lick before he allowed his limp cock to slip out from his mouth.

When the Thief King pulled out of him at last, those firm hands disappearing from his waist, Ryou's body swayed. Without support and adrenaline coursing through his veins, he was finally forced to bear the full brunt of his exhaustion; his limbs, weak and trembling as they were, felt like noodles beneath him as he tried unsuccessfully to pull himself to a standing position. 

"Easy," the Thief King murmured, and grabbed his hips once more to steady him. "Let us take care of you."

Bakura reached out to hold him from the front, hands grasping onto his chest, and together both men worked to lift him from the ground and deposit him with surprising gentleness onto the bed. Instantly, Ryou's lids fell shut, and he burrowed under the blankets. After some amount of time had gone by, there was a stirring, and Ryou awoke to find that they had both crawled in after Ryou, bracketing him between them. At some point they had shed the remainder of their clothes; their skin was pleasantly warm against his own. Turning his head to the right, Ryou gave Bakura a sleepy smile and leaned forward to press a soft, deep kiss to the former spirit's lips. Then, turning to the other side, he kissed the Thief King in much the same manner.

When Ryou pulled away, he blinked, slowly, and let out a contented sigh. Mere moments later he found himself drifting off to sleep, neither knowing nor caring how the next day would unfold. Somehow, he didn't think it would matter. So long as they were together, it would be alright—the devil was in the details, after all.


End file.
